Abstract

Ask any scientist — be he profound or petty, poetic or prosaic — he will always demand one thing in his pursuit of knowledge: that which is presented must be sharp, clear, well defined and “clean.” All revelation through discovery and invention, no matter how intuitive and emotional, no matter how much significance or lack thereof it might imply, must appear in a clear form. The scientist needs to make the non-visible visible, to give definition, detail, and delineation to the depth of experience, to present Logos or order to the world, even if it is only a small Logos, perhaps floundering within a threatening sea of chaos doomed to eventually swallow up all significant distinction at some future time — as some of the more tragic scientists infer when they claim that the universe is predestined to whimper away in a slow decay, a heat death in which entropy and disorder become the ultimate shroud of mankind and the stars.